


characters

by amaelamin



Category: Infinite (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Science Fiction, Alternate Universe - Vampire, Angst, Gender or Sex Swap, M/M, Metafiction, Smut, Teen Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-28
Updated: 2016-07-28
Packaged: 2018-07-27 07:33:28
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,124
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7609375
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/amaelamin/pseuds/amaelamin
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Part genuine fic, part fanfic meta - real-life Myungsoo and Sungyeol walk through a few fics being written about them, traversing my (unserious) take on a few popular genres in the kpop fandom.</p>
            </blockquote>





	characters

**Author's Note:**

> originally posted on AFF on 1 july 2013.

“We’ve been waiting here for days and nothing’s happened yet,” Sungyeol muttered out of the corner of his mouth, and Myungsoo sent him an annoyed look.

“Shut up. She’s probably busy.”

“How busy can she be? She was updating us almost every day and now she hasn’t come back for almost a week. What if she’s gone on holiday? What if she’s abandoned this fic? We’re going to be stuck here on this park bench looking shyly at each other until she decides to write again. I’m bored.”

“Too bad for you,” Myungsoo replied, and then went back to looking at Sungyeol from under his lashes, slight hint of a flush on his cheeks. Sungyeol rolled his eyes and stood up fully from where he was almost crouched in a sitting position, body angled towards Myungsoo.

“What are you doing!” Myungsoo hissed. “She’s going to come back and you won’t be where she left you!”

“She probably can’t even remember _how_ she left me,” Sungyeol sniffed, and stretched. “She didn’t even get to the part where I got to sit down. Ahh, that feels good. I want to look around.”

Myungsoo tsk-ed, and then gave up, leaning back against the park bench their writer had put him on. She hadn’t given it much detail, so he couldn’t tell whether it was wood or metal or stone, or what colour it was. It was merely in outlines, which from his experience tended to shift depending on who came to read them later on. Someone who liked wooden park benches made of light and springy wood would see them in their mind’s eye that way, and someone who had grown up near gardens with solid granite seats would see them that way instead. It made up for mundane storylines sometimes seeing the whole world around you shift and bloom into different colours and shapes from one reader to the next. It was pretty easy, Myungsoo thought, being a writer. You didn’t even have to do all the work because the readers would fill in the details for you.

He watched Sungyeol poke around the edges of their outlined park, the details of the trees and plants unimportant because they were playing second fiddle to the budding romance unfolding on their vague park bench, the two of them high school classmates who’d been in the same remedial class after school, chance encounters opposites attract tremulous voices and pounding hearts etc etc etc.

“This one is pretty boring as stories go, to be honest,” Myungsoo called after Sungyeol, who was fruitlessly trying to push his way out of the small written-imagined park. “I would like some action and adventure in this storyline, for once.”

“Concentrate real hard on that thought and maybe when she comes back to write us she’ll give you a scene where you stand up to our tutor and refuse to hand in your math assignment.”

Myungsoo glared at him, but Sungyeol was too busy scrambling back into position as new words began to flow, their writer unexpectedly appearing to form new sentences and push their story along.

 

_Sungyeol sat down on the bench, sending a quick smile Myungsoo’s way as Myungsoo hurriedly collected his books and made space for Sungyeol to sit. Sungyeol flipped his fringe out of his eyes, school uniform untucked as usual and too-many earrings glinting in the late afternoon sun._

_“What are you doing here?” Sungyeol asked, after an awkward pause._

_“Um, I just come here sometimes,” Myungsoo answered, then blushed immediately. “I mean, when I want to think, or- or if I’ve got free time-”_

_“It’s a pretty place,” Sungyeol offered, and Myungsoo nodded, silence settling around them._

_“I never thanked you for-” Sungyeol began._

_“I don’t think this is a good idea-” Myungsoo started at the same time, and waited._  

 

And waited, trying to ignore Sungyeol waggling his eyebrows at him when the next sentence failed to show up.

“I don’t believe it, she’s gone off again!” Sungyeol hissed, after more than half an hour had passed. “She came back to write ten lines?”

Myungsoo sighed, and slumped back against the park bench. “Well, here’s to at least knowing my character is about to throw a spanner into the works.”

“You’re right, what don’t you think is a good idea?” Sungyeol looked suspiciously at him. “All we’ve done so far is send each other meaningful glances and, y’know, accidentally-on-purpose brush hands or legs under the table during remedial. It isn’t like anything has happened yet. Why wouldn’t it be a good idea anyway?”

“I don’t know, maybe because I’m a straight-laced goody-two-shoes who is unfortunately bad at math yet still places high hopes on graduating with flying colours and getting into a good university to study science or something and you’re a careless hooligan with a penchant for body modification?”

“What?”

“Your piercings,” Myungsoo said, waving a hand at Sungyeol’s ears. Sungyeol fingered them, pleased.

“I like how she makes it a point to always have you notice my earrings. I think she’s making it a kink of yours. So what’s wrong with them?”

“Nothing, except if I’m that kind of student who’d never break a rule in his life someone like you who doesn’t bother to wear his uniform properly and flaunts his long hair and ridiculous amount of earrings would seem like just the person to avoid, especially since against all odds and common sense I’m apparently attracted to you.”

“Maybe what you don’t think is a good idea is making googly eyes at each other in a public area. Maybe you were going to invite me over to your place for private… googly eyes.” Sungyeol batted his eyelashes at Myungsoo as he emphasized the last two words, sleazy on purpose. Myungsoo ignored him.

“I’m going off to university, and you’re probably not going to make it, despite our tutor’s best efforts. Maybe that’s why it’s a bad idea, because I’m leaving.”

“What? Come on, that’s such a cop-out,” Sungyeol paused his eyelash-batting to sit up straight, annoyed. “If you really like me that much you’d try to make it work no matter what.”

Myungsoo scoffed, turning to face Sungyeol head-on in his incredulity. “You’re serious, aren’t you? You actually believe that I’d put my entire life on hold for you? Why don’t you follow me, then? Follow me wherever I go if you like me that much. Not like you’ve got anything after high school to look forward to.”

“Fine! Yeah, fine! I’ll go with you then, to whatever university you move to. I’ll get a job waiting tables while you go to classes and I’ll cook ramyun for us when you get back to the dorm at the end of the day. Sound good?”

Myungsoo shrugged, non-committal. “I guess.”

Sungyeol frowned and grabbed one of Myungsoo’s wrists to make it unable for him to withdraw. Myungsoo’s head snapped up at the contact, and tried to pull his hand away.

“I don’t do ‘I guess’, Kim Myungsoo,” Sungyeol said, pulling Myungsoo closer. “Yes or no?”

Myungsoo cast his eyes down to their hands between their bodies, cheeks heating and reluctant.

“Sungyeol-”

Sungyeol leaned in and kissed Myungsoo, the breath stilling in Myungsoo’s body for a moment as Sungyeol freed one of his hands to cup Myungsoo’s cheek, smoothing his thumb over it gently.

Myungsoo kept his eyes closed as Sungyeol pulled a hair’s breadth away, letting their foreheads bump gently.

“Yes or no?” He whispered. Myungsoo swallowed and nodded briefly in tiny movements, looking up eventually to see Sungyeol’s rakish grin break over his face.

“Now _that_  would be a good ending to this scene,” Sungyeol said, letting Myungsoo’s hand fall as Myungsoo sat back nonchalantly, grunting in agreement.

“I wonder if she’d let us kiss so soon in the story though,” Myungsoo mused. “She seems to be the type to draw things out dramatically. The way things are going we’re probably only going to kiss passionately in the rain at the train platform as I’m leaving for wherever I’m going. You’ll show up and tell me how much you can’t live without me and that finally melts my cold logical heart. I jump off the train and uncharacteristically ignore the fate of my luggage, chugging away to another city.”

“Meh. Let’s go see what other writers are doing with our characters right now. Trust me, this one isn’t coming back anytime soon.”

Myungsoo let himself be pulled to his feet by Sungyeol, and they yanked up the heavy outlines of the park like a curtain and crawled away underneath.

*

“Oh yes, it’s a porno,” Sungyeol whispered in glee as they find themselves in a dark club filled with people pulsing with too-loud music.

“How the hell did you come to that conclusion?” Myungsoo put a hand on his hip, all the better to radiate scorn, and felt bare skin. He looked down, and – oh.

Sungyeol had clasped his hands together and was giggling in a pitch Myungsoo hadn’t thought possible. “Shirtless, skin-tight low-slung black jeans, eyeliner, bed hair, and army boots,” Sungyeol checked off on his fingers. “This is _definitely_  a porno.”

“ _Shirtless?_ I - Why are you dressed so normally, then? That’s not fair.” Myungsoo sighed in defeat.

“She’s typing. Let’s go find out.”

 

_Myungsoo moved easily through the crowd to the podium, swinging himself gracefully up on it in a way bodies shouldn’t move – tight and lithe, the moving lights casting shadows on creamy skin and over ridges of muscle, creating lines and planes that Sungyeol couldn’t help but be transfixed by. Myungsoo grasped the pole in the middle of the podium lightly to cheers around him, running his closed fist up and down it a few times and laughing raucously at the reaction that got._

_Sungyeol found himself with his back to a wall, comfortably hidden in a dark corner away from the press of the crowd but still close enough to be able to watch Myungsoo – watch Myungsoo obscenely lick a stripe up the pole, curl his tongue before biting his own lip, head tilting backwards as his eyes fell closed. Sungyeol shifted, suddenly feeling like he wasn’t hidden enough for the growing tightness in his pants to stay unnoticed. He felt like a voyeur._

_The music changed to something dirty with a pounding bass, and Myungsoo pulled someone up to the podium with him – some kid with too-long hair and slim hips, clearly a boy but ambiguous enough to be interesting._

_Sungyeol watched them dance, watched Myungsoo press his mouth to the kid’s neck, spread his legs on either side of the pole and slowly roll his hips against it till there was sweat running down his body and the music started filling Sungyeol’s head with a blur of Myungsoo’s dark eyes and the need to feel Myungsoo’s hands fisting in his hair. Sungyeol let a hand drop cautiously to his crotch, his heart already thudding silently in the roar of the club and skin flushing to match. Myungsoo had one leg between the kid’s, hands held above him on the pole to give the boy access to his body as the crowd egged them on._

_Sungyeol flattened his palm against the front of his jeans, the slight pressure setting nerve endings sparking so that he had to suck in a breath. The kid’s hands were hovering around Myungsoo’s pants button, Myungsoo leaning back and watching through kohl-rimmed eyes as he let the boy have free reign. Sungyeol pressed down harder, lips falling apart in a tiny moan._

 

“Um,” Myungsoo blinked after a few seconds, feeling the author’s impetus disappearing as she stopped typing. Myungsoo got down awkwardly from the podium, extricating himself with some difficulty from the grinning kid and having to twist in strange angles to move through the crowd back to where Sungyeol was fanning himself.

“I would never do that,” Myungsoo announced with some heat once he got close enough.

“You just did,” Sungyeol said, willing his erection away and shifting to try to hide himself and before Myungsoo saw it.

Myungsoo saw it.

“But… maybe you wish I would?” He grinned.

“Go choke on a dick,” Sungyeol said with a sniff, turning away to go to the next fic.

“Yours?” Myungsoo called after him.

*

It was a barren wasteland, a burning sand desert as far as the eye could see to the west in the overwhelming heat – the sudden blinding brightness of the sun and glare from the heat shimmering over the ground after the dark cool of the club causing them both to squeeze their eyes shut immediately, complaining bitterly.

“This is not fun,” Myungsoo grumbled, trying to open his eyes a crack to see what Sungyeol was wearing, usually a sure giveaway as to what kind of story they were in. Sungyeol had his hands plastered over his face as if they could block out the searing heat and sun, his hair cropped almost bald and already skinny arms now wiry and tanned – he was in a dirty shirt and dusty overalls that had clearly seen better days, patched and repatched till it was hard to tell where the original fabric began and the repairwork ended. He seemed to have some sort of thin goggles on – Myungsoo couldn’t tell until Sungyeol moved his hands, but just then Sungyeol stumbled over a rock hidden in the sand (because his hands over his eyes prevented him from seeing anything, idiot) and the clean silver lines of a gun strapped to his back came into view.

“You have no hair,” Myungsoo informed him, and put his own hands to his head just in case. _Oh yay, I still have mine_. “Um, I think this is the future.”

Sungyeol was still feeling his nearly-bare head unhappily. “But don’t they know that short or no hair makes my cheeks look extra fat?” His eyes looked huge in his thin face now, long fingers spread out over his cheeks – he looked like he’d been through everything this desert could think up to throw at him. Myungsoo’s gut twisted at the sight of the bones of his shoulders poking up through his shirt.

“I think you should be more interested in that huge space gun strapped to your back than your lack of hair, right now,” Myungsoo said, distracting himself by trying to survey the landscape for the reason why Sungyeol needed to be carrying such a gun. Sungyeol had lit up at the mention of it and had maneuvered it around to his front, where he was struggling to unsling it with difficulty.

“Shit, this thing is heavy. What do you think, sci fi? Dystopian!AU? We look kind of like cowboys, actually. You’re wearing spurred boots and a checkered shirt and everything.” 

“Space cowboys, huh?” Myungsoo murmured, running a hand down his threadbare shirt, noting his faded jeans fitting poorly on his own bony hips. How long were they supposed to have been out here? The world was alive on its own despite the author not building the story at the moment; he could hear faint sounds of construction being blown their way on the wind, and the heat beat down on them mercilessly.

Sungyeol had managed to get the gun off his body, and was testing its weight in his arms. He gave Myungsoo a grin.

“No, Yeol, I really don’t think-”

The gun went off with a resounding blast, carving out a small crater in the ground about ten feet from where they were standing. Sungyeol had been blown off his feet onto his back – Myungsoo hoped it had hurt – and Myungsoo looked up warily from where he’d thrown himself into the dust as the echoes of the gunshot bounced off the high cliffs to the east.

“Thank you, stupid person, from announcing to anyone and everyone who might want to do painful things to us just exactly where we are. We’re in this story now whether you like it or not and we don’t have the author here to tell us what to do,” Myungsoo scolded, throwing a fistful of sand and small pebbles at Sungyeol in annoyance.

“I’m not stupid, I’m just acting out commonly-held stereotypes people have of me,” Sungyeol countered. Myungsoo rolled his eyes and got cautiously to his feet.

“Well, that doesn’t seem to have caused any – oh shit.”

Myungsoo grabbed Sungyeol and started to drag him half on his feet, Sungyeol scrambling to stand properly while still maintaining a grip on his gun. He threw a brief look over his shoulder at the skyship that had just emerged over the lip of the cliffs and was gaining on them impossibly fast; Myungsoo still dragging him and trying to run as fast as possible away from it.

“ _Run_ , Sungyeol!” Myungsoo urged, trying to zigzag in case the ship started to fire at them like he’d seen in the movies. 

“Run _where?_ ” Sungyeol shot back, bounding along awkwardly, one arm caught in a vice by Myungsoo and the other cradling the monster gun close to his body. “This entire place is open!”

“This kind of scenario never ends well and you know it,” Myungsoo hissed, and pulled Sungyeol along insistently. _This author was a sadist._

The ship caught up to them effortlessly in barely a minute; its shadow as it passed over them ironically giving brief respite from the sun, their skin ceasing to burn for a minute or two. It landed noiselessly and without fuss in front of them, Myungsoo finally giving up on running and beginning to back away slowly instead in the direction they had come from.

Two figures emerged from the ship and made their way towards Sungyeol and Myungsoo, both carrying guns identical to the one Sungyeol was clasping rather protectively in his arms.

“Myungsoo,” Sungyeol whispered urgently, and Myungsoo ignored him steadfastly, already knowing what Sungyeol wanted to tell him. “I _know_ , Yeol.” Sungyeol told him anyway.

“Is this a crack!fic? Because it’s Sunggyu hyung and he has a _red Mohawk_.”

“I have no idea what kind of fic this is, Sungyeol, but if you laugh at him or make me laugh at him I will kill you, do you understand?”

“And the other guy is Woohyun,” Sungyeol offered helpfully, and Myungsoo sighed in resignation as Sungyeol stepped forward cheerfully, going for broke.

“Hi, friends! Nice hair, there, sir. Why the serious faces?”

The gunshot at his feet barely missing his toes by inches, was, Myungsoo thought, rather to be expected. Myungsoo raised his hands in the air and Sungyeol followed suit, eyes wide as his gun was taken from him without ceremony.

“Check them,” Sunggyu ordered, and Woohyun, dressed as Sunggyu was in an official-looking jumpsuit with unfamiliar military insignia, grabbed Myungsoo and pressed an official-looking rectangular device to his forearm. Numbers just under the skin glowed red.

Sungyeol’s numbers glowed blue –

“They look like runaways, captain,” Woohyun reported, eyes never leaving Sungyeol’s face. “A supervisor and a harvester.”

“What would a supervisor be doing out in the Barren with a harvester, I wonder?” Sunggyu asked, voice quiet and yet full of foreboding. “Would you like to answer that, sir?”

Sungyeol’s jaw dropped slightly when he realized the question was being addressed to him. _Sir?_

“We were just, um, out for a walk,” he tried, and it took everything Myungsoo had not to close his eyes in despair.

“Out for a walk in the Barren, eh?” Sunggyu treated Woohyun to what looked like a rare smile, devoid as it was of actual humour. “And how did you like it, sir?”

“Well, it’s rather dry,” Sungyeol replied.

They were marched into the small, lightweight ship ahead of the two military men and made to sit with their hands handcuffed behind them on the floor as Woohyun stood guard over them. They listened in as Sunggyu reported over the radio about finding them, Sungyeol apparently being the subject of some discussion with whomever he was talking with.

“What do you think a supervisor is?” Sungyeol whispered to Myungsoo as low as he could.

“Whatever they are, they clearly don’t go for _walks_  in the _Barren_ ,” Myungsoo answered, keeping an eye on Woohyun.

“I blanked, okay?”

“Behold my complete lack of surprise.”

“What is your division, sir?” They quieted immediately as Sunggyu came up to Sungyeol, squatting down in front of him to look him in the eye; the ‘sir’ entirely devoid of respect.

“My – my division?” Sungyeol stuttered uselessly.

“He’s lost his memory,” Myungsoo interjected, Sunggyu sliding his cool gaze over to him. “I found him wandering around out there. He doesn’t know who he is or how he got to – to the Barren.”

Sungyeol watched Sunggyu’s face for a reaction, trying to look as honest and trustworthy as possible. Sunggyu smiled.

Woohyun leveled his gun at Sungyeol’s head.

“Let’s try another question. Where did you steal the gun from?” Sunggyu continued in the same calm voice, now completely dropping the ‘sir’.

The only sound in the ship was Woohyun cocking his gun, and then his step forward to press it against Sungyeol’s skull.

“I- I found it, I swear!” Sungyeol blustered, subsequently confused by Sunggyu’s apparent lack of interest in his answer. Sunggyu moved over to Myungsoo’s right seemingly without having heard Sungyeol, and with no preamble he pulled out a knife – Sungyeol gasped – and slit Myungsoo’s sleeve all the way up to reveal his bicep. An ugly brand was seared into Myungsoo’s skin, scarred over and pale against the surrounding tan.

“D for deserter,” Sunggyu murmured. “Why don’t I find that surprising?”

Sunggyu got to his feet. “Shoot them and throw them out,” he said shortly to Woohyun. “We can say they got violent.”

“Sorry, boys, just following orders,” Woohyun cocked his head and smiled.

“Next fic, Sungyeol?” Myungsoo asked quickly.

“Next fic!” Sungyeol agreed, panicking.

They disappeared, the bullet slicing through empty air.

*

 _“Hi,” Myungsoo said, for lack of something_ more _to say. Sungyeol stood uncomfortably in the doorway glancing at Myungsoo ever-so-often, his eyes darting away and back to the wood floor, the threadbare sofa Myungsoo was sitting on, the curtains moving slightly in the breeze coming in from the open window. Sungyeol started to put his door key back into his jeans pocket, but then put it down on top of the television instead._

_“I came to take my things,” Sungyeol said quietly, and rather superfluously. Myungsoo nodded, wondering if he should get up from the sofa and help. He didn’t feel a thing._

_He eventually migrated to the door of what used to be their bedroom to watch Sungyeol pack things carefully into the boxes he’d brought with him. Sungyeol considered the sizes and shapes of the things he was packing, and methodically adjusted them inside the boxes till they were neatly filled, like breakup Tetris._

_Myungsoo had laid Sungyeol’s clothes out on the bed for him earlier – shirts on one end, pants and shorts in the middle, underwear and socks at the other end; Sungyeol stopped a while to just look at them, and Myungsoo wondered what he was looking at. Their colours and material against the familiar bedsheets? The last time he had worn that shirt and what they’d done together that day? He had no idea. Sungyeol folded the clothes carefully, his fingers and hands moving softly over the fabric in ways infinitely known and close to Myungsoo, like those were his own hands, his own fingers._

_Sungyeol must have known Myungsoo was standing there and watching him, but he never made any sign of it._

_He stood up straight when the last box was full, and hesitated a moment – three boxes but only two arms that could carry one at a time –_

_Myungsoo jolted – “oh, let me-“ – and picked up a box. Sungyeol muttered his polite thanks, and led the way out of the apartment and down to where his car was parked. Up the stairs one last time together, and Sungyeol turned back before he reached the door, remaining box cradled in his arms like a baby._

He doesn’t know what to do _, Myungsoo thought._ What is the proper breakup protocol to follow when you’re over at your ex’s for the last time to collect your things?

_In the end, Sungyeol just settled for saying goodbye, really quickly and softly, his eyes not really meeting Myungsoo’s. The door closed behind him._

 

Sungyeol opened the door a crack, a few moments later when the writing had halted. “Well, shit, that wasn’t a fun fic to drop in on at all-”

Myungsoo was sitting with his back to the wall adjacent to the door, tear-stained face averted the moment Sungyeol noticed.

He hunkered down beside Myungsoo and took him in his arms, ignoring the wetness against his neck and tried to soothe Myungsoo, long gentle strokes down Myungsoo’s back.

“Stop, baby, you look really ugly when you cry,” Sungyeol whispered into Myungsoo’s hair.

“If you call me baby again I’ll deck you,” Myungsoo mumbled back, childish petulance followed by a huge snuffle.

“You better not be getting snot on my shirt.”

Myungsoo wrapped his arms tighter around Sungyeol’s waist, and Sungyeol held him until his breathing evened, smoothing down his hair.

*

“I’ve got a headache from crying,” Myungsoo complained as they walked down the lamplit suburban park pathway. “People should just stop with the angst. It does nobody no good.”

“I disagree,” Sungyeol replied evenly. “When done well it can be beautifully painful.”

“Who reads fanfic for the pain?” Myungsoo scoffed. “Oh, hey, look at you. Your hair’s long and everything, and you’re wearing a trench coat.”

“Long and black, like Batman.”

“Batman doesn’t wear trench coats, dumbass. Are we detectives?” Myungsoo asked excitedly, poking through all the pockets of his own normal, lighter-coloured coat to find a clue but coming up with nothing. “Maybe I’m Sherlock and you’re Watson.”

“ _Hardly_ ,” Sungyeol turned round, indignant and ready to defend his intellectual superiority. “You were last in Ranking King for the Intelligence episode, don’t forget."

“Okay, fine. What other kinds of people wear trench coats? We’re not flashers, are we?” Myungsoo asked with some anxiety as the possibility struck him.

Sungyeol checked. “Nope, we’ve got clothes on underneath. At least I have. But… I am also really cold.”

“Huh? But you’ve got that coat on.”

“No, I mean _me_. My skin’s really cold. I wonder what-”

 

_“Myungsoo hyung, get away from him!”_

_Myungsoo backed away automatically at the shout, legs moving on instinct before his brain caught up with him. Sungyeol didn’t move a muscle, watching Sungjong arrive with a vaguely amused smile playing about his lips._

_“Hyung, you should know better than to be out at this time,” Sungjong threw over his shoulder, getting in between him and Sungyeol who wasn’t batting an eyelid._

_“What is it?” He asked Sungjong, who had expertly drawn a sword from a scabbard strapped to his back  –_

_Sungyeol smiled then, dragging his tongue over a long, sharp canine. Myungsoo’s eyes widened._

 

“No! I refuse to be in a vampire fic,” Myungsoo announced, bringing everything to a screeching halt; manifested in the real world as temporary writer’s block. “Sungyeol, we’re leaving.”

Sungyeol laughed, baring his newfound fangs. “She’s going to write it whether you want to or not. Am I sparkling?”

Sungyeol craned his neck back and they all peered at his skin.

“You totally are, hyung,” Sungjong said.

“That’s it! We are leaving now!” Myungsoo declared, turning on his heel and walking off in a random direction. “I am nobody’s goddamn Bella. I know what’s coming. This bastard’s going to bite me and I’m going to fall in love with him and be his sick vampire blood-sex-slave or some shit. I was meant for better things in life.”

“What about me?” Sungjong complained, sheathing his sword once more. Sungyeol shrugged at him, and tried out what should have been a wink dripping with deadly vampire charisma. Sungjong just glared.

He jogged up to Myungsoo and grabbed him by the arm, making him slow down. Myungsoo nearly jumped a mile.

“Fuck, that’s cold,” Myungsoo drew back. “You’re like a walking fridge.”

“Very handy in the summer, Myungsoo. Just think, you could just lay on top of me, completely naked. No need to run up huge electricity bills having the airconditioner on all day. All it’ll cost you is just a tiny sip now and then.” Sungjong, who had been following them, snorted.

“I’ll eat you first, puny human,” Sungyeol threatened Sungjong. “Myungsooooo.”

“What?”

“I’m hungry.”

“Go eat a rare steak or something.”

“But you smell so good.” Sungyeol pulled him backwards by the back of his coat and buried his nose in Myungsoo’s neck, one arm looped around Myungsoo’s waist. “You have so much blood, you don’t need all of it.” Myungsoo reached up and slapped him upside the head.

“Sungjong! Give me your sword!”

Sungyeol sent him a look, full of reproach. “Fine. Think of all the encounters with dark and mysterious me full of tremblingly unrestrained and intense lust leading to overwhelming physical pleasure you’ll be missing.”

“’Tremblingly’ is not even a word. Next fic?” Myungsoo asked deliberately, eyebrow raised.

“Yeah, yeah, whatever. I was getting kinda attached to these fangs. Spoilsport.”

(The author writes it anyway. Sungyeol bites Myungsoo and Myungsoo falls in love with him and becomes his blood-sex-slave. And likes it.)

*

“Now this is what I’m talking about!” Sungyeol exclaimed when he finally found his voice, the both of them staring bug-eyed at Myungsoo’s reflection in the mirror. “This makes up for _everything._  Oh man, I love this author. I want to marry her.”

“I…” Myungsoo stared, taking a deep breath. “Am ridiculously hot.”

“Look at those babies. Oh man,” Sungyeol could barely stop himself from doing a happy dance. “You should always be the girl. I’m way too skinny to have decent breasts.”

Myungsoo cupped his full breasts through his cotton bra, imagining how they would look in a tiny bikini. “I make an amazing girl,” he told Sungyeol, unable to take his eyes off his reflection, wearing only shorts and underwear.

“You totally do,” Sungyeol readily agreed. “They even gave you long wavy hair. You’re your own ideal type. Too bad you’re not innocent.”

Sungyeol’s hand was an inch away from the curve of Myungsoo’s left breast when Dongwoo opened the door. And screamed, prettily-curled hair falling into his large eyes in shock and tastefully-manicured hand flying to his full chest. Sungyeol froze, eyes about to fall out of his head.

Woohyun, Sunggyu, Sungjong and Howon piled into the room, all beautiful, all soft curves, all shocked, and all female.

 

_”Sungyeol unni?” Sungjong asked tremulously after a long pause wherein Sungyeol didn’t know where to look or what to do. “Is that really you?”_

_“I don’t believe it. She’s a… boy.” Howon said, not really believing the words that were coming out of her own mouth. “Look at her. That is clearly Sungyeol’s face, but – oh my god. This is too much.”_

_“It was her birthday yesterday, so maybe-?” Sungjong started, but was interrupted by Sunggyu bustling towards Myungsoo and throwing a blanket over her._

_“There’s a man in the room!” Sunggyu hissed at her. “What are you doing?”_

_“I’m not a man!” Sungyeol protested, his voice much deeper than before giving him away._

_“She’s not bad as a boy,” Woohyun observed. “And I bet those tiny sleeping shorts have never fit so well.”_

_Seven pairs of eyes were drawn to Sungyeol’s shorts, bulging out in places that didn’t used to bulge, and Sungyeol felt hysterical tears coming on. She had –_ boy’s parts. _This was too awful to bear. Woohyun smiled, looking predatory._

_“You think it’s that particular curse of kpop idols that causes them to switch genders on their birthdays?” Howon asked Sungjong matter-of-factly._

_“Well, yes, it’s a well-known occurrence.”_

_“How come that didn’t happen to any of us on our birthdays?” Myungsoo asked, wide-eyed, Sunggyu tucking the towel around her to protect her dignity._

_Howon muttered something that sounded like ‘plot device’._

_“Excuse me,” Sungyeol said, raising her voice and closing her eyes to maintain her composure. “What exactly am I supposed to do now?”_

_“Oh my god, go out with me and pretend to be my boyfriend,” Dongwoo suggested excitedly. “The fans will go crazy!” Woohyun ‘tsk-ed’ at her severely._

_“You’ll just have to wait it out,” Sunggyu told her, gaze turning sympathetic. “Poor Sungyeol. Just as freakishly tall and skinny as a boy.” She patted Sungyeol on the shoulder, needing to stretch if she wanted to reach the top of Sungyeol’s head._

_“This is highly disturbing. But fascinating. It’s like watching a trainwreck,” Howon murmured, Sungjong nodding enthusiastically in agreement. “I can’t bring myself to look away. Yeol, could you do a turn? I want to know if you still lack a butt.”_

_“Maybe we should give her some privacy?” Sunggyu asked dryly. “You all look like a pack of wolves ready to pounce.”_

_“I haven’t had sex in a year,” Dongwoo said sadly to herself as she shuffled out behind Howon and Sungjong._

_“I think I’ll stay here-” Woohyun began, but was pushed out firmly by Sunggyu, not even giving her a chance to turn around for one last look._

_Sungyeol sat down next to Myungsoo on the lower bunk bed as Sunggyu closed the door behind them, and promptly burst into tears. Myungsoo turned back with alarm as she pulled her pajama top quickly over her head._

_“I didn’t even have very big breasts but not having anything at all is worse,” she wailed, Myungsoo tut-tutting along with her._

_“Well, Yeol, you lost your breasts but now you have.._ that,”  _Myungsoo motioned at Sungyeol’s lap, unable to stop herself._

_“That is not an acceptable substitution!” Sungyeol cried indignantly._

_“This is insane,” Myungsoo breathed, leaning back so she could look at Sungyeol properly. Her thick hair was shorter and sideswept to the left, the bones in her face less fine yet her eyes were exactly the same, large and expressive; her shoulders were much broader, hands bigger, hips more angular, long legs even longer but more bony – and all of this was stuffed into a too-small nightshirt and frilly sleeping shorts._

_“I’ll get you something bigger to wear,” Myungsoo said, getting up to go to their shared closet as Sungyeol wiped her eyes._

_She got out Sungyeol’s baggiest shirt and her own biggest pair of shorts, and when Sungyeol hesitated to take them from her she rolled her eyes._

_“Lee Sungyeol, I’ve seen you naked hundreds of times. Tomorrow you’re going to be a girl again. Just_ get changed. _We’ll go to bed early so tomorrow will come faster, okay?” Myungsoo congratulated herself silently on her ability to feign nonchalance like a champion, and tried to focus instead on making Sungyeol as comfortable as she could._

_Sungyeol took off her shirt with difficulty, and the sight of the wide planes of her flat chest, and lean muscled arms and shoulders made Myungsoo give a nervous laugh._

_“What was that for?” Sungyeol stopped, halfway into the new shirt._

_“Nothing. It’s just too weird. I’ve teased you forever about not having breasts and here you are… with no breasts.”_

_“Thanks a lot,” Sungyeol grumbled, short hair fluffing adorably as she pulled the neck of the new shirt over her head. She hooked her thumbs into the waistband of the sleeping shorts, and paused, staring at her shorts. She looked up at Myungsoo._

_Myungsoo looked back at her, expression carefully blank. Sungyeol looked down at her shorts again._

_“Oh, for goodness’ sake,” Myungsoo said, walking over and yanking Sungyeol’s shorts down, new baggier shorts in one hand as if she was changing an uncooperative toddler. Sungyeol screwed her eyes shut, refusing to look._

_“Oh.” Myungsoo’s mouth went dry._

_“What is it?” Sungyeol asked. “Am I tiny?”_

_“No, no… not tiny.”_

_Sungyeol cracked open one eye. “What, am I big?”_

_**_

_“I haven’t had sex in a year,” Dongwoo wailed louder._

_“Shut up,” Woohyun told her._

_**_

Myungsoo looked up the same moment Sungyeol looked down.

“Hey, she’s stopped writing,” Sungyeol noticed, and then went on to notice other things, like the blush suffusing Myungsoo’s cheeks.

“Oh, you so want me,” Sungyeol grinned, putting his hands on his hips. “You have to admit, this is pretty hot. Boy!me and girl!you.”

“Hmph,” Myungsoo said, not liking how even more taller Sungyeol was than him now that he was a girl. “You’re not _that_  big, by the way.”

“Oh, really? Woohyun was really cute as a girl-” Myungsoo punched him hard in the arm.

“Don’t even.”

Sungyeol pulled Myungsoo to him, long, dark hair soft under his hands as it rippled down Myungsoo’s back. Myungsoo was now the perfect height to lay his head on Sungyeol’s chest, top of his head only just reaching Sungyeol’s shoulder.

“Mmm,” Sungyeol sighed happily.

“Mmm what?”

“Mmm, breasts pressing against me through a thin cotton shirt. Wouldn’t it be amazing if everybody could switch between male and female whenever they wanted? Best of both worlds, I’m telling you.”

“Your shorts are still around your knees.”

“Oh, I’d forgotten about that.” Sungyeol wriggled, and the shorts fell to the floor.

“What are you doing?” Myungsoo asked, leaning back so he could look up at Sungyeol accusingly.

“Making the best of it.”

*

_“Myungsoo!”_

_Myungsoo raised his eyes from the book he had just opened, not sure if he had heard right._

_“Kim Myungsoo!”_

_The shout was strained because the person doing the shouting was trying to be as loud as he could. It was coming through the still-open doors of the train, most people having already found their seats and settled in, their luggage either stored in the racks above them or given to the porters to set away in the cargo car._

_“Kim Myungsoo, this is Lee Sungyeol! I know you’re on this train!”_

_This shout came loudest yet, and Myungsoo got up hurriedly to look out the window running all along the side of the bullet train. Sungyeol was outside on the wet platform just outside Myungsoo’s car, looking harried and anxious; he ran a hand through his long hair, fruitlessly looking up and down the whole platform, and Myungsoo watched him through the window dotted with raindrops._

_Sungyeol saw him then, and Myungsoo felt his heart drop into his stomach._

_“Come out. Please.” Myungsoo watched Sungyeol’s mouth form the words, and as he looked up he realized the entire car was staring at him._

_He could stay here. Just sit down, draw down the blinds, and ignore Sungyeol, but then it occurred to him that the only way Sungyeol could be on that platform was if he’d spent money to buy a ticket, just for the chance to speak to him again – and Myungsoo felt bad._

_Cursing his conscience, he got up and went out, staring over everyone’s heads. Just because Sungyeol had spent money, he told himself. He’d just see what Sungyeol wanted._

_The wind buffeted Myungsoo as he got out of the train, the storm beginning to pick up speed. He stopped in front of Sungyeol and tried not to look expectant, or annoyed, or nervous – though he was rarely at ease in Sungyeol’s presence. Heart always beating too fast, mind always too slow to catch up._

_“Don’t go.”_

_Myungsoo heaved a frustrated sigh. “It’s done, Sungyeol. Everything’s in place. I’m all packed up. My dorm’s waiting for me.”_

_“You could go to school here in Seoul. You don’t have to go so far away.”_

_“Maybe I want to,” Myungsoo answered, both wanting Sungyeol to hear and realize what the past few months had done to him, and wanting it to be too soft for it to register because he didn’t want it to be true._

_“Don’t run away from me,” Sungyeol urged, catching Myungsoo’s hands in his own. “You’re scared, I get that. Why throw away a chance at something great just because you’re afraid how it’s going to affect you? You adapt. You cope. And I’ll help you. If you don’t want to stay here then I’ll go with you._ I’ll go with you _.”_

_“Sungyeol, don’t,” Myungsoo pulled his hands away, and pushed his hair out of his face as the wind curled around the two of them. Heart beating too fast, mind clouding up. “Look, I have to go. I’m sorry.”_

_“I love you, Myungsoo.”_

_Myungsoo stopped, closing his eyes. “Don’t do this.”_

_“I do. I love you. And I’m offering you this,” Sungyeol gestured to himself. “Everything. If you want it.”_

_“We’ll – we’ll never work out,” Myungsoo tried, feeling desperate. “We’re too different. I mean, look at you. You think nothing about doing this at the last minute on a crowded train platform with everyone staring at us as if your whole life was a tv drama-”_

_“You think this was easy for me to do?” Sungyeol asked incredulously, train last-call bells beginning to chime. Myungsoo shrugged, helpless._

_“The only reason why it’s last-minute is because I didn’t want to make things hard for you. But I was sitting at home, staring at the walls, and I knew, I_ knew _, that if I didn’t come down here and try to get you to stay that I would regret it forever. I had to try, Myungsoo. Tell me you don’t feel something for me too. Tell me you won’t regret it if you leave.”_

_“I-” Myungsoo began, and stopped, his heart pounding and mind racing. The train was about to leave, and taking a deep breath, he made his decision in the space between the last bell and the slow cranking-up of the train. He grabbed Sungyeol’s hand and dragged him up the train behind him, shoving him into the seat next to his and trying to ignore the gapes of the passengers seated around them._

_“What does this mean?” Sungyeol asked, beaming so widely his face was in danger of cracking in two._

_“This means you’re an idiot and I’m an idiot for listening to you and I can’t just leave my luggage to go to Busan by itself.”_

_Sungyeol laced his fingers tightly through Myungsoo’s, their hands between them hidden from the prying eyes of their fellow passengers._

_“That’s good enough for me. Enough for now,” Sungyeol whispered, leaning close. “I love you. I love you I love you.”_

_“Yes, so I’ve heard,” Myungsoo said dryly, trying to calm the pounding in his chest by staring hard out the window even though there was nothing he could see through the rain._

 

“That was cheesy as hell,” Myungsoo harrumphed, leaning back in the train seat.

Sungyeol beamed at him, squeezing their entwined hands. “Busan holiday!”

The edges of the scene around them began to fade into nothing, the fic ended, the story over.

*


End file.
